


RIP Simon

by yikesola



Series: Bingo2019 [8]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2011, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Realtionship, M/M, pet death, simon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: “Simon died,” Phil says, sounding far more broken up than Dan would’ve expected. After all, Phil had to have known the shrimp wasn’t going to live forever. And yet he sounds like he’s in full mourning.A fic about loss and communal grief.





	RIP Simon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [phandomficfests](http://phandomficfests.tumblr.com/) Bingo Fest!  
Bingo Prompt: Character Death, Hurt/Comfort  
Also, I have a quick [post](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/188595327944/whomst-is-simon-anon-get-ready-to-fall-in-love) about who Simon is, in case anyone doesn’t know :)

Dan is spending a rare night in his room in the uni halls. He takes forever to actually sleep in this bed that contains only him— no comforting Phil breaths, no comforting Phil warmth. Sure, he can sprawl as far as the tiny bed allows without worrying about elbowing Phil in the face, but it’s not actually worth it. So he doesn’t manage to fall asleep until about 2 am, which unlike his usual late nights is not intentional. 

He’d woken up early and actually gone to lectures that day. He’s trying. He’s trying to try. It might be too fucking late, but he’s trying. 

He only sleeps for about an hour before he’s woken up by a series of texts from Phil. And not the sexy kind of texts he certainly never minds being woken up by. 

“_daaaaaan :(_”

“_simon..._” 

“_my son!_” 

Dan is pretty annoyed to be woken up because of a shrimp— internet famous though the shrimp may be— but he rubs at his eyes and blinks at the bright phone screen. He doesn’t know what Simon is up to now, but he knows he should find out before falling back asleep. He calls Phil instead of bothering to type out a response. Calling he can do with his eyes closed. 

Phil answers right away. “Dan, what’s it called when you’re like the opposite of an orphan? I’m the parent of an orphan… No, I’m… a widow-father!” 

Dan’s sleep-foggy brain can only answer with, “Wot?” 

“Simon died,” Phil says, sounding far more broken up than Dan would’ve expected. After all, Simon was a shrimp. A shrimp hatched from prehistoric dust four months ago. A shrimp who was expected to die two days after mating despite mating with all the other shrimp in the tank like it was the freaking Jersey Shore in there. Phil had to have known the shrimp wasn’t going to live forever. And yet he sounds like he’s in full mourning. “Can you come over?” he asks, a sniffle in his voice. 

Dan yawns. He’s tired. His head hurts. He doesn’t seriously consider turning down an invite to Phil’s, even if he hasn’t ever really _needed_ an invite. But it’s the middle of the night, he’s not about to catch a bus at this hour and he shouldn’t spend money he doesn’t have on a cab.

But then Phil gives a soft, sad, “Please, Dan,” and Dan says he’ll be right over. 

When he knocks on Phil’s door twenty minutes later, he’s still in pyjama pants and his University of Manchester hoodie. Because why bother changing this time of night? Any annoyance he felt at being woken up and dragged across the city are wiped away when he sees the red around Phil’s eyes. 

“Oh, Phil,” he says and opens his arms. Phil falls into the embrace. Maybe Dan doesn’t understand why this loss is hitting Phil as hard as it is. But he’s still determined to help Phil in any way he can. 

They curl up on the sofa, Simon’s tank out of view on the kitchen counter, with Dan’s arms wrapped around Phil. “What happened?” he asks. 

“I just checked the tank before going to bed. I’d been up, er, pretty late. Donkey Kong had to keep me company while you’re at uni,” Phil says. Dan gives a soft laugh at the admonishment. “He didn’t look good. He wasn’t moving. Then he floated to the top, belly up.” 

“Oh,” Dan says. He reaches for clichés, anything that can help. “He’s in a better place. You know, shrimp heaven.” 

Phil has a fresh set of tears making a trail down his cheeks. “God, I’m so stupid,” he says, shaking his head. “I dunno… I mean obviously we projected onto him a lot, he was just a shrimp. But I miss him. He lived so much longer than he was supposed to, I guess I thought he’d just keep on living.” 

Dan rubs a hand along Phil’s back. “You’re not stupid. You loved that little shrimp.” 

“Yeah,” Phil says. “I was mostly kidding when I called myself his god or his father and stuff, but really he’s like the closest I’ve had to a son since my hamster breeding days. And I feel like I should’ve done more, like somehow I could’ve loved that shrimp so much he actually became immortal or something.” 

Dan pushes Phil’s fringe off his forehead. He plants a kiss there on the now exposed skin. 

He wonders if Phil is taking on all this sadness because he’s being sad for the both of them. It’s true that Dan didn’t have much to do with the tripos or shrimp after the initial process of pouring their dust into a tank of water. Sure, he’d played with the internet culture that had sprung up around Simon, but Phil actually checked on him every freaking day. Like an actual pet parent. 

Maybe Dan was never as involved with the deep sea creatures as he could’ve been. Maybe, if he’s being honest, he was more preoccupied with the chest hair peeking through Phil’s low, two-buttons-unbuttoned shirt in his video explaining that they’d brought new life into the world than on the clip where they did so. Maybe he’s ill-suited to fatherhood— as ill-suited to fatherhood as he is to uni and studying law. 

Or maybe it was a shrimp, and he’s a month shy of twenty years old, and he can put in more effort next time. For another shrimp, or a houseplant or fish or dog. 

For now, he’s going to be support for Phil in the way he wasn’t for Simon. That’s hardly a chore, wanting Phil to be happy. It’s been his goal as long as he’s known Phil. 

“We’ll plan something. Make something,” he tells Phil. “He deserves a proper send off. He would like that,” Dan says with an arm around Phil’s shoulder, nodding as he speaks. “I’ll pay my respects, Bryony and Charlie would too, I’m sure. John, PJ, Chris… Simon was well loved, Phil.” 

Phil’s frown is still rather pronounced, but there’s a quirk in the corner of his mouth. He lets out a bashful little sigh. “I’m being so stupid.” 

Dan pulls him close. “What else is new?” he says. Phil laughs. It’s good to hear him laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/188590560109/rip-simon) !


End file.
